


Third Sun of Tatooine

by AmidalasCouture



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Belly Dancing, Clone Wars, M/M, Sexual Slavery, Slave!Anakin, Smut, Tatooine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-03 20:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11539653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmidalasCouture/pseuds/AmidalasCouture
Summary: Obi-Wan goes undercover as Rako Hardeen. In an attempt to gain the Separatists trust he chases Casjos Galles, a 'Spice' Dealer that had betrayed the Trade Federation. This leads him to Tatooine, an outer rim planet he visited once before. There he meets Anakin Skywalker, who had chosen to stay on that desert planet all those years ago. It seems that the force has planned more for them.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of my first planned ongoing series here.  
> Please enjoy~!

 

Running to his panting and sweating master, Obi-Wan immediately checked him for injuries. Relief filled him as he found none, just a bit of charred clothes but nothing had graced Qui-Gon's skin. He sat down, the older man regaining his breath after the duel and the scorching heat of Tatooine. The Queens pilots preparing the jump to hyperspace, he was not needed there. “That was a surprise that I won't soon forget.”, the other said finally. Obi-Wan sighs, the possibility that something like this would happen had been small but there. At least if one was the padawan of one of the most unconventional Jedi in the Order, he thought. A question for clarity was left:”What was it?” He had only felt a dreadful ripple in the force, a rushed ‘Start the engine’ from the communicator and seen a cloaked figure fighting his master soon after. In the situation he had no time to make something out besides two lightsabers clashing and trying to maneuver the aircraft. After a few seconds of heavy silence, his master answered. “I don't know... but he was well trained in the Jedi arts. My guess is he was after the Queen…” With that ended the conversation, Qui-Gon lost in thought and Obi-Wan himself found his mind drifting towards the questions left unsaid. He knew that he would find no answer by voicing them.

 

It was sometime after they entered hyperspace that Padme, the Queen in a handmaidens outfit, sought them out. Qui-Gon went somewhere. He had left before  It was not him that held her attention. “Where is Anakin?”, she asked and Obi-Wan felt left out. Vaguely he remembered a blood test he had to run the night before and his master going back for some business. Right a boy was mentioned, after he asked if he was about to pick another pathetic lifeform up. “He wanted to stay with his mother.” said the Jedi Master solemnly. It striked odd that the other sounded lost. Obi-Wan thought it was better this way. Jar Jar was more than enough and a little boy had no place amidst this mission. It was too dangerous anyway.

 

_ Now - Tatooine _

 

Even in the evening, the twin suns of Tatooine took no mercy on anyone. Obi-Wan was not particularly more fond of this planet located on the Outer Rim than the first time he visited. It was after all an unfriendly dustball of a planet. There was sand and only sand for miles on end and every once in awhile maybe a settlement or a moisture farm and the wide cloudless horizon. It does not rain here on Tatooine and there were no large bodies of water that he knew of. It was a wonder that anybody would settle down here willingly, but looking at the people living here, it made sense. Most people living in the settlements on Tatooine were criminals in one form or another and people who did not want to be found. Then there was the issue with the Hutts, who were also criminals but on such a high caliber that the Republic was powerless here, and the slaves they selled and owned. The native Jawa were wandering merchants and one did good to keep away from the Tuskens. If he were ever in the need to disappear, he probably would choose Tatooine too. 

 

Today he was on this sandy hell, because for the time being he was Rako Hardeen, bounty hunter extraordinaire and murderer of the famous general Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was on the run from the jedi and on the way to become a trusted member of the separatists movement. As another test to his credibility they sent him here to hunt down one Casjos Galles, a Klatooinian ‘spice’ merchant that had ‘lost’ some of his important wares. He was to find the man, interrogate him and get the wares back. Preferably he ended up dead for betraying them.

 

This was why he was walking down the street of Mos Espa, the sand hot enough to burn his feet through the soles of his shoes even if it was near the end of the day. At least he did not have to wear the Jedi robes, consisting of tunic and outer robes made of warm and thick cloth. It was unbearable as it was. Rako Hardeen prefered a much simpler look without any decorum to it. It was practical and that was it, the only downside being the dark colors. He was also bald with no more than a five o’clock shadow left now of his beard and while he missed it and on occasion tried to stroke through it, a habit he had picked up on, he was grateful now on this too hot planet. Hell would probably be colder. Another thing that had changed was his face. It was a lot more sharper with strong features and a tattoo across it to give him a dangerous look. His padawan Ahsoka, a togruta of nineteen years, assured him that he looked ‘As striking as ever, Master’ while reigning in her giggles. She had declared after he had also redressed that he now looked the opposite of ‘friendly teddybear’ that he normally looked like to the young woman. He had to keep himself from smiling fondly because Rako Hardeen did not smile. That was something Obi-Wan Kenobi did, often quite charmingly he had been told. A trait that helped him with the peaceful side of negotiations, but peaceful hat no place in warfare.

 

Casjos had hired some bulk as his bodyguards, mounts of muscle and most often drunk on alcohol but none the less there. Which was why he had followed him and waited for a better opportunity. It was not long that the Klatooinian entered one of the finer establishments of Tatooine, a bordell named ‘Desert Desire’.  Rako chose to follow him, entering just shortly after his prey. Inside it was a little bit warmer than on the outside even and a sweet smell permeated the air with pheromones  probably underlaid to make the ‘merchandise’ more attractive. The merchandise in this case were pleasure slaves those masters just wanted to make a pretty sum of them.  Something that Obi-Wan found most disgusting, but did not have the luxury as Rako to show it. In the background played a more sensual rendition of jizz music, setting the tone of the club further. The ground of the club was made of smooth stone, booths in dark leather were centered around various little stages that sometimes dancers and strippers occupied and basically presented themselves.  Only over these booths were dim lights.

 

He lounged on one of the sofas near the center stage, nursing a drink without much alcohol and spread legs instead of his usual more regal sitting positions. He had after all to play the part and could not look like he did not belong here. So far he was able to turn down any of the approaching ‘workers’ and their offers of a lap dance or sexual acts either here in the half dark or full service in the upper rooms. The booth was right behind the one occupied by Casjos and his entourage, some of them having sparsely clothed girls on their laps and were already half ways to drunk.

 

The music faded out and with the beginning of the first drum beat the center stage lit up in a golden hue, revealing a man standing there. The sudden brightness drew his attention as well as that of the other patrons. He should not be looking at the stage, but he could not keep his eyes away, as the slave, a modern adonis in his opinion, began rolling his hips to the beat of the drums. Except for the flimsy piece of dark red chiffon cascading down from the belly scarf, little gold plates flying with every shake of his hips and starting from a broad golden belt, there was nothing left for the imagination. The rest of the man was planes of sun kissed golden skin, glistening slightly, awakening the desire in him to kiss and lick at those lean lines of riveting muscles, rippling with every movement to the crescenting beat. From the belt a thin chain of gold connected to the slave collar, a band of solid metal colored golden with the same fine engravings. His ankles and his left arm were graced by the same accessoires. His eyes had followed the chain up, only stopping shortly at the nipple piercings and landing upon a handsome face with fine features, nearly androgynous looking. The man's eyes half lidded it was impossible to tell their color. The face was framed by soft golden curls, the rest of the hair done up in an elaborate hairstyle, emphasizing the long lines of his neck. One of his arms was artificial, a beautiful intricate design matching the accessories. He was looking ethereal, beyond the boundaries of race and gender, it was also his dancing that enraptured the onlooker. 

 

The fast beat came to a halt, only to start again more slowly accompanied by the saxophone. The dancers movements grew now more sensual as well, his brash hip shaking motions were now flowing like tides in the ocean, his hands roaming along the curves of his body. It was not even the vast planes of naked skin that was so mesmerising but also the complete control he had over every muscle of his body. They contracted and relaxed in rhythm and with such precision Rako found nearly impossible. It was then that the dancer looked in his general direction, the blue of his eyes even visible from the distance. His flesh hand reached out and the finger of his hands curled inwards. Rako’s heart missed a short beat and then doubled its effort to pump blood through him. It certainly did not go towards his brain. _‘_ _Karking Sithspit’_

 

Its when Rako looked inward, that he saw the most alluring thing of the man, the thing that made sure all attention was on him. It was the opposite of what a jedi would do, pulling the force close and making oneself invisible, no he was a brightness that pulled everyone in. He was the center of gravitation on this remote planet, the mans force presence was the third sun of Tatooine and he was in its gravisphere. 


	2. Entwined

_ Ten years ago - Theed palace _

 

They stood in the hangar bay, Obi-Wan and his Master and another Jedi, a Togruta named Shaak Ti, as well as the Queen and her special unit. They were there to retake the Theed palace and put a stop to the trade federation blockade. Qui-Gon looked at the one nabooian fighter jet left and then to him. Obi-Wan had a bad feeling about this. “Take the fighter, Padawan” And Obi-Wan, as much as he wanted to protest, did. If Qui-Gon believed it was the will of the force, then there was nothing left to argue. 

 

It was only after he started the machine, R2-D2 taking the place made for astromechs and they were already in the air that he felt the disturbance in the force. The same he had felt as Qui-Gon had battled the Sith. He was half contemplating returning, but Shaak Ti was with his master.  _ They could do it. _ He had no time over thinking this as soon as he came under fire.it was only in the very last second that Artoo was able to deactivate the auto-pilot and he could take the reins. Calming himself, he let the force guide him, navigating through the bolts and ships of friend and foe alike, trying to find a weak point. It was then, that an idea came to him. The shields were too strong, they were impenetrable. But as the droid control station was also the carrier of their fleet, their hangars were wide open, inviting him to destroy the ship from within. It was a stupid idea, the stakes to high, but also quite brilliant. This fight was about the freedom of a whole planet, it was a decision that needed no contemplating.

 

_ Now - Tatooine  _

 

The show was over too soon for his liking, if he was honest, but at least it made it easier to quell the desire that now run through his veins. The men left the stage with catcalls awaiting him. Rako was not delighted to see that Casjos had been able to get the man to come to him, willing to pay the high price and touching the golden slave, claiming him for the night. The alien was soon on his feet, excusing himself from his company and was eagerly raking his hands over the slave's body, guiding it to the exit. Rako knew that it was jealousy that made his drink taste bitter and that it was entirely inappropriate for a jedi to feel it especially over an enslaved prostitute. 

 

But Rako Hardeen was no jedi, the traitorous  and longing part of his mind supplied. He downed the rest of his drink and followed shortly after the both of them disappeared to the rooms above the club. Originally the plan was to wait until Casjos was sated and drunk and alone in one of the rooms and no suspect was around, but patience was a virtue he was not capable of in this moment. 

 

It was easy to find the room, the force presence of the slave a guiding beacon. He stopped a moment before the door and centered himself. He was a professional, dammit. Exhaling one long moment, he opened the door. What he saw was something he had not expected. Casjos was already asleep on the bed, the slave still clothed in his dancers attire, but with harem pants on, and leaning against the window frame, smoking a death stick. His hair had come undone, the blond tresses reaching to the shoulders and were mussed up more as he raked his hand through them. He exhaled the smoke out the window and shortly threw the glimmer stick after it. He looked towards the door and their eyes met for the first time. 

 

His confusion at the scene must have shown for the other only smiled mischievously and said: “He drank too much”. They both knew that that was a lie. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Before he could say something, explain his presence or question him, the slave dressed in gold and silk stalked towards him like a krayt dragon might a bantha and he was definitely the prey. “But I think I would not mind so much your company, master.” It was only a hushed whisper, but only a few inches separated them now. If there was any protest before on the forefront of his mind, it died with the way the over dove down and claimed his lips. He could only softly moan at this first contact of their bodies, grabbing the other and pulling him indefinitely closer, so that they touched from head to toe. Grabbing a fistful of the others golden locks, Rako deepened their kiss, softly biting at the others lower lip and then tumbling and twisting their tongues together until they were left breathless. With a smirk, he was finally able to find words, the typical “Hello there”, dripped with his accent that he had suppressed before but had not found the mental capacities to do so now.”Your name, beautiful?”, he asked. The sleeping man and the mission forgotten for now, he felt as if he was under a siren's call and he did not mind it. The nightly breeze that came in from the window was colder now, but he felt too hot and the air to static that he thrummed with the excessive energy. He could not keep his own hands still, raking them across the slave's skin, his thumb rubbing over one of the exposed nipples, the metal of the piercing heated from the warmth of the skin and he gave into the desire to play with it the second the other began to speak. 

 

“Ana...kin, master.”, answered Anakin as he moaned lightly at the feeling of the pulling sensation. He liked it, Rako decided and continued playing with it, regaining some ground for himself. “I’m…”, he hesitated for a moment, nearly saying his real name,”Rako Hardeen”. It had to do. Anakin looked at him a moment and Rako thought that he would call him out for the lie,but the other did not. Instead he grabbed him between the legs, with mirth in his eyes and a smirk on those plush lips. “More like Rako Hard-on-for-me, master.”, and Rako was trapped between a soft moan and a laugh that wanted to escape at the bad pun. “Too much talking”, he decided and escaped any further comment by claiming those lips again. After he was done with them, they were swollen from the attention they received and Rako continued to kiss across the others chin and down than throat, biting and sucking above the collar, so that the skin turned a deep red. Anakin did not protest and kept stroking him slowly with his artificial hand, the other now curling at Rakos head, fingers finding no hair to tangle themselves into. 

 

He should not do this, but the temptation was too great and while Casjos was passed out, he would not be able to gain any Information either and well, what a past time this will be. Soft stutters of breath escaped Anakin, when he nibbed at the juncture of the others neck, and the slave began to massage his neck and the pressure made him relax into the touch more. “Where to..?”, he asked, the bed still occupied. Anakin nodded towards the left and Rako can see a couch in dark synth leather, the same color as the sheets of the bed. He could not make out more in the dark of the room that was only lit by the light filtering through the window. It's the first time he looked at the room. Anakin meanwhile had let go of him mostly, taken a step closer to the couch and Rako could only follow as the blonde had entwined their hands. They began kissing again before the couch, clever hands opening his trousers and pulling them together with the underwear down. A sigh escaped his lips now that his cock was free and not trapped anymore and a second later he was being pushed down on the couch. He looked forward only for him to see Anakin also losing his pants and crawling on top of his lap with a grin. Rako tilted his head up and pulled the other down into a kiss again. Even then they part his lips keep tingling. He begins to mouth along the jawline, hands stroking all over Anakin's body downward there they now rested on his hips. He trailed kisses down his neck, some featherlight and some more aggressive that made his skin bloom red. It was not long after that, that Anakin just sinked down on him and they were both moaning and panting and Rako was grabbing  at the other's hips in an attempt to gain control. It was fast and fervent and more intimate than it should be, but he felt closer to Anakin than he felt to anybody else in these days and it was so satisfying. It was open mouthed kisses and nipping at the others nipples, tasting metal and sensitive flesh, it was uncontrolled movements, heated, and it was over all too soon.

 

Afterwards they needed some time to catch their breath and he was not able to let go of Anakin's body. He traced scars that he can mostly only felt in the dim light and wished he could do this far longer. They did not talk, but the silence was not oppressing. Some time later Anakin stood up and put on his pants. He did the same and wen over to Casjos. “Don’t kill him. I don't care about his live but it's bad for business.”, he heard Anakin say and Rako had not thought about killing him, but it made him wonder how often something like this happened. Probably too often. With a slight nudge of a force suggestion the ‘spice’ dealer awoke. He looked at him confused and then angry, followed by an enraged” “Who are you?!”. 

 

Rako did not answer the question. The lesser the other gained from this the better. He glanced towards Anakin, who had another death stick between his lips and looked with interest at him. Then he focused his attention again on Casjos. “You have stolen some things that you should not have.”, he said ominously. “I don’t know what you mean.”, was the defensive reply he anticipated. What follows was something Obi-Wan hated, but Rako needed to do. He grabbed the other by the front of his tunic and punched him in the face, thrice. So uncivilised, indeed, these bounty hunters.

 

It's not long before Casjos talked. He said it's the Hutts. They had been unhappy that he had extended his trade in their territory and claimed his wares. Now he hid here in Hutt space because he feared the Separatists. If the man were not a ‘Spice’ dealer and would consort with pleasure slaves, he might feel pity for him. He did not. 

 

Rako contemplated the answers, but it was the truth. He felt no deceit. While the other liked prostitutes and dealed with spice, he lacked the backbone for grand schemes and greater plots. He was a shivering angsty mess by the end of it. It was in that second that the door sprang open and the bodyguards stormed in. Well, what other thing was left to do for him than to jump out of the window?

 

Only when he reached the ship he notices that all his belongings wer gone. They had been robbed he was sure. ‘When?’, he asked himself. The answer came to him easy. ‘Anakin!’, the pleasure slave must have robbed him, distracted him with carnal pleasure and then took his things. And he let him. What a fine jedi he was. Without his things he needed to go back, needed to find them before he can continue with his mission. The town had become quiet now. Most merchants and slaves had retreated to their homes. Still Mos Eisley became no ghost town. Here in the Outer Rim dealings were done on the open street and many other suspicious creatures crawled through the streets. Rakos nerves were agitated but he strangely felt empty and the beacon of Anakin's force presence had dimmed to nothingness. He felt a mosquito bit him and reflexively he tried to squash it beneath his palm, but rather met a needle. Everything turned black then. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the next chapters are gonna be more plot focused :)  
> Thank you so much for your support and I hoped you enjoyed it!
> 
> If you want to talk to me, come visit me on tumblr :3  
> https://amidalascouture.tumblr.com/
> 
> Have a nice weekend!
> 
> (PS: The fic is discontinued for now since i seem to write for everything but this)


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